


Defying Gods

by linecall



Category: Jane Foster - Fandom, Lokane - Fandom, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Heavily Jane oriented, Hinted Lokane, Jane Foster deserves better, Jane Foster is under rated and deserves the universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 08:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12860598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linecall/pseuds/linecall
Summary: Jane betrayed by both brothers crushed under the weight of hopeless dreams and trapped on Earth receives a offer from a different kind of devil. Past lokane slightly implied.





	Defying Gods

________________________________________  
Defying Gods  
________________________________________  
This was magic the glorious blanket of stifling light littering inky all swallowing blackness. This was the utter beauty that Jane had wept for, fought for, the very reason she breaths. Bound in slavery to the untouchable eternity of the universe. Here, she is tiny in comparison to all else the mountain peak stares out over the sky her throne to this minuscule window into the heavens. No one will ever know the ache in her chest when she is reminded of her mortality, the fragile body proving entrapment to Earth's tiny sphere. A cage of her pitiful evolution in comparisons to what lurks in every faraway burst of light above. Here she is imprisoned. She has fought along legend, held in her veins the very elixir of power, laid with God's and yet this pitiful throne of a mountain is all she will ever have.  
Dr. Jane Foster alone and shivering on the edge of the world opens her wind split lips, bellowing out the wilting scream brewing in her belly since childhood. Clawing hands through tangled hair her hood falls back a crumbled furry beanie fluttering into the surge of wind whipping the shards of stone. Swirling and draining down to the faraway world below, before drafting back up and out of her sight. It crescendos her scream until the pain of airless straining forces her burning lungs to breathe. Surging forward until the tip of her spiked shoes toe the crust of the cliff she hurls her head back and announces her rage once more. Tears blur her vision, but she refuses to give in to their lure for sobs. Fury bubbles along her skin the flesh red from the freezing gust of wind there is a dangerous strength behind them that threatens her tittering balance. Finally, after a heaving intake of stinging snowy air her rage recedes to sulking beneath her skin. Turning carelessly the slip of a woman trots her way back towards the camp of three tents and a generator. A pitiful excuse for a team one little astrophysicist, a bumbling assistant assigned by Shield both following a native guides instruction to survive the trek up and down the pathless journey. What did she hope to find here, dragging a team across the world due to one anomaly and nothing? Not one stone out of place, no Celtic knots that are in reality not Celtic but influences of early alien intervention.  
She feels him. Mocking her his forest eyes mirthful in face of her naive soul. Even now that rage skitters along her skin because no matter how long she fought against his temptations, her longing for the stars poisoned every crevice of her heart and he promised galaxies. When she got to the tents she ripped into hers, shredding the heavy jackets down to her long johns, Tony Stark provided generators and running a heater was worth having to leave behind the extra weight of her devote ten-year running heavy laptop. It wasn't logical anyway SHEILD has given her a fancy tablet ages ago but she had refused to relent.  
Raging at the end of the world was momentarily forgotten as the heat of her small but strong device the hefty insulated tent hugged her in slow warmth as she wallowed. No one could show her the world's, she was cursed to limited Earth technologies and power sources and weakness. Shoving her fist over her eyes with a force that would bruise bit back her rage into the sleeves of her long sweater and long johns muffling her loss of control. Maybe this was the Aether wallowing along with her, perhaps it knew destruction was upon it and survival called for hibernation in its weak host just enough to live but not enough to consume her. Because she has never known this feeling of all-consuming hatred, the heat of anger burning her with its flames her body withering on the bed from the need to do something about it. Jane goes limp with exhaustion the soft plushness of her thermal sleeping bag beneath her cushioning her into its downy top. Hot silent tears rained down her cheeks, moving with wary motions she buried herself into the confines of the sleeping bag waiting for sleep to entrap her as the harsh winter air assaults the siding of her tent.  
The foster theory is not a theory but scientific law proven and shown to be without a doubt fact. However, to the world, she is still a joke, the fringe scientist on the very edge of madness. SHEILD holds back her research, mutes her tongue and traps the truth. It soothes her only slightly to know the brightest minds such as Tony Stark and Bruce Banner know of her achievements but even this tiny silver lining seems to lack any brilliance in Janes gray world. The mountains of India hadn't given her more than she already knew and the blistering heat of the African plains was proving to be matching in disappointment. She sits on the roof of her truck laid out with a blanket beneath her watching the to and fro of the tall grasses, refusing to look up at the twinkling starry landscape. Inside of herself, she feels hollow, the burning passion she once felt is turning ashen inside of her chest. Giving up isn't in her blood, however, from the ashes of her passion her rage makes its nest. How she would love to break away from this world if only to look back at everyone who would have clipped her wings and laugh. Shifting herself she sighs again, air wheezing from her nose with an unpleasant sound before her eyes scrunch shut and she huffs out a shaky breath.  
"I could give them to you." The voice shatters the silence propelling her into a flurry of motion as she sits up spinning her head around with heart hammering in her chest and there before her he stands. Cape ruffling into the wind steely eyes glaring at her from behind a heavy mask and he radiates power. The figure stands over her on the edge of her trucks roof just far enough away that in the African grasslands dark night he is concealed. Having stood in archways among historic gods this man whoever he is still makes her tremble. Pitiful human sight can't make out the details of his person the lighting is dim and starlight rarely shows her any secrets anymore. He wears a hood she can make it out in his shadow and his mask catches the hints of light, whatever he is wearing beneath the cloak is glinting, it must be some kind of armor. Whatever fear is to be had it won't obey her summons, Dr. Foster has stood before Maliketh and lived, perhaps more impressive she has stood before grant approval boards.  
"What, what could you give me?" Curiosity has always been her downfall and it influences the first words to this predatory stranger.  
"The stars." Their voice is deep and final, he doesn't move toward her or away simply stays standing there studying the tense woman before him.  
Janes standing too now she knows she seems submissive splayed out trapped in his shadow with his obviously less than human abilities to have manifested from thin air she wants to be an equal. Right as she is about to go on a rant about how stars cannot be given their burning balls of gasses hubbing out worlds. That they are whole galaxies millions upon trillions of lightyears away, his voice splinters any attempt.  
"I could. I could free you, Dr. Jane Foster." Oh, if he knew what those words did to her how they slid along her wounded soul like healing oils. Perhaps he did know because his body relaxed, and he turned throwing out his arm in a gesture to the sky. "Anyone of them you wished to visit it would be in your power. Your mind has fathomed ways to paths unexplored by humanity only for you to be deemed unworthy! Let me free you, Dr. Foster."  
The words caress her keep her silent for him to continue his gushing speech as she studies him. This mysterious man surreal and dangerous on the top of her truck in the middle of the night. In Africa. Promising her worlds. How the devil comes barring all things you will ever want is not a myth. Confirming her theory, she stares longingly beyond the deep black holes that make up his mask.  
He is on about how she will never have her life's wish if she stays a loyal dog to SHEILD and she sees her chance to regain some ground in this encounter.  
"Tell me what you want, what do I have to give you in exchange?" It is just curiosity Jane repeats to herself but the rage at being ignored by her fellow man cannot help but empathize with this stranger, willing her to consider. Stirring in its ashen nest her awoken rage hazes her mind.  
He seems suddenly taller, broader as he straightens turning back to face her with an unreadable demeanor. "I will seek to rule all you discover. I will mine for power in every land so that I may wield it. I do this not to destroy and burn the world but to better it. I will lead humanity to sit among the gods!"  
When he speaks her skin breaks out with a thousand raised pores, deep baritone sound echoes in her head alerting a primal cord of fear within her at the sheer emotion he harbors in his words. He is willing her ashen heart to burn again. "They who sit among golden arches and forever blue skies, looking down upon us. The ones who hold power in this world mocking the poor and ill-educated. Locking away our potential. We will tear them down we will rebuild this world and you will lead us on to new ones."  
There is madness hidden in his voice, she has heard it before by a raving god on television in Germany. In the muttering of Eric when he is back in the ghostly brushes of the tesseract that lurk inside his mind. In her own, late at night as she writes down equations that seem to form themselves and laws of physics rewrite one another just for her in a deranged coffee-fueled insomnia. Jane has known since she was small how much loyalty bound her to the nebulas, how deranged love drove her to do things others would deem insanity. Rejecting Donald for only wanting her companionship. Late nights smelling of ink and oil as she slaves. Self-confinement in extreme remote climates. Refusing meals in exchange for a few more moments of carving out her equations no matter how much her palms bled due to the new forming calluses. Travelling through spacetime to unleash ather. Fighting among gods, venturing to foreign releams. Pushing away this world in hopes of another. For which she has nothing.Yet he offers her everything if only in turn for a little order.  
"Will you hurt people?" It's a question she knows the answer to but can't help the slip of her tongue.  
"Those who resist."  
"You'll protect me from them?" Who she means is not lost on him, SHIELD, Asgard, Thor, Eric. They would all want to stop this all for different reasons. Eric for his love and devotion to her, Thor perhaps from honor but his honor means little to her as he has betrayed her with false promises once too many. SHEILD and Asgard alike cannot risk her mind working against their causes. Shield have made it clear that any work she continues must be strictly regulated and contained. Suddenly there is power knowing they fear her work in the hands of someone willing to use it.  
"If you decide freedom at my side I will protect you there."  
The words, "at my side" do not escape her this freedom is a lie already yet, it sings to her as the bigger of two cages. He holds out a heavily gloved hand the air pulsing between them with tension as Janes' fist uncurl from her side. It is an offer one she knows once it is accepted she will never be able to turn away from. He does not offer her redemption, in fact, he offers her the worlds damnation in turn for her own personal gratification. Longing for the heavens and yearning for world's unimaginable can only be held at bay for so long she is burning to death in her rage and her lifespan so short already. Here this man is offering her the keys to the pearly gates only if she will burn the city that lays within.  
The truck that holds their stage creaks beneath them as Jane takes his hand his grip on her fingers turning tight.  
"You may call me Dr. Doom."

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are welcome. Should it be continued?


End file.
